Florence/Ischia/Rome

So you know how sometimes you're wandering around, looking for the Sistine Chapel, and all of a sudden you pass thousands of people crowding behind barricades and you hear the word 'Papa' every few seconds, and you realize that the Pope's about to give his weekly address? I like when that happens. It sorta like finding a $20 bill in the pocket of your winter jacket the first time you wear it that season.

So yeah. It was a pretty good time, although the Pope was so far away and there were so many people that I could barely even see the big screens they had up around the Vatican courtyard. I knew the Pope was supposed to be in his chair in front of this white tent-like thing, and I could hear him talking, but it seriously could have been a little white puppy in the chair instead and no one there would have noticed, as long as they showed some video of the Pope on the screens.

Anyway Rome's been pretty awesome. I got here Monday afternoon and have seen the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Sistine Chapel (and Vatican Museums), St. Paul's Basilica and about a million other things. It's also really strange, because nuns are walking around everywhere. AND they're the worst line-cutters ever, because no one's gonna bitch out a nun for cutting in front of them in the hour-and-a-half line to St. Paul's Basilica.

There's something amazing about standing inside the Colosseum, looking down at it, and about standing in the Sistine Chapel, looking up at it. The Sistine Chapel experience is tainted a little by the masses of tourists pretending not to see all the signs and taking pictures of it. One poor security guy is in charge of trying to stop them, so he runs around yelling NO PHOTOS NO PICTURES in seven different languages (seriously, I counted) and pokes people who don't listen. A lot of them even take pictures with a flash, and then when Poor Security Man walks away after yelling at them they take another picture. People suck.

Oh, and I figured out the real end to the "When in Rome..." saying. It has nothing to do with doing as the Romans do. It's all about waiting in line. For the museums, the churches, everything. That's right. When in Rome, you wait in line. So now you know.

There's so much more to write about but I have to get going soon to see if this girl I met in Poland wants to meet up tonight. So I'll move on...

Ischia

I was walking around the streets of Florence a few days ago when I realized I was dead tired. Florence is this beautiful city but all I could think about was not walking around anymore. So I figured I'd put off Rome for another day and head to Ischia, this small resort island about an hour and a half into the bay of Naples. I figured I'd take a day, relax on the beach, read and generally do nothing, then be completely energized when I got to Rome.

The rain started about 10 minutes before the ferry docked. The downpour started when I got off the ferry and started walking to the bus stop, which was not, as the books would lead you to believe, right near the docks. And on a little island with no sidewalks, walking in the dark on the side of the road in a storm makes you very wet, very fast. I finally made it to the bus stop after about 10 or 15 minutes. It wasn't covered. The bus arrived about 5 minutes later, and I told the driver where I wanted to get off.

He knew no English and I know no Italian, but I think he liked me. I think this because he knew where I wanted to go, but still proceeded to keep me on the bus all the way to the end of the line, despite my repeated reminders ("Ostello Il Gabbiano? Soon? Pronto?") He just kept nodding and pointing forward.

Finally, after going the whole way there and turning around and going halfway back, he told me we'd arrived at my stop. All I could think was he wanted to drop me on the right side of the road.

It stormed well into the next day, but the sun came out around 1 p.m. so it wasn't a complete bust, although I'm not sure it was worth what amounted to a full-day trek to the island.

With a massive hangover.

Florence

That's because I capped my two and a half days in Florence with a bottle of wine while watching the sun set over the city from the Piazzalle Michaelangelo. My tolerance has gone down considerably on this trip, because for the last month and a half I've been much too tired to go out much at night after a full day of stuff.

I was feeling good after half the bottle of wine, but then I got to talking to this kid from Chicago (the one who made a comment on the last post, who despite what he wrote was very, very tired of hearing about cats by the end of the night), and over the course of the conversation I finished off the bottle. Then it was getting a little cool out, so we went for a nightcap at a bar, where I had two Guinnesses.

The sunset over the river was amazing, and the conversation was a good time, too (although I get the impression I did most of the talking), but the head hurtiness the next day was less fun. Much less fun.

And on that note, Jamie should be finishing with work now so I'm going to find a phone and give her a call.

Next stop is Venice, then Nice and maybe Cannes, and I meet with Nicole in Barcelona in a week. I can't believe that this trip is almost over.